


you've got stars, they're in your eyes

by lifewasradical



Series: What A Feeling [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Calum leaves the band, Existential Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27547321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifewasradical/pseuds/lifewasradical
Summary: “You know I love you, yeah? Please never forget that,” Calum finally says, turning his head so his watery eyes meet Luke’s. Luke frowns, running his thumb under one of Calum’s eyes, catching the tiniest bit of liquid on his finger.“Of course, I love you too,” Luke promises and Calum can feel his heartbeat steadily thumping below his ear. He can feel the warmth of Luke’s skin, the faint puffs of breath coming from his open lips. Calum wants to savor the moment, never to forget again, knowing that after tomorrow he may very well never see Luke again.Or, Calum leaves 5 Seconds of Summer.
Relationships: Luke Hemmings/Calum Hood
Series: What A Feeling [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019680
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	you've got stars, they're in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> There are 36 (!!!!!) One Direction song titles written into this fic. Some are obvious, some are more hidden. Technically, there are also 2 Harry Styles solo song titles in here too. Have fun finding them!
> 
> This is 100% dedicated to Shal, because this is her idea entirely, I just stole it from her and turned it into some monster that I was unable to stop writing. Thank you for letting me take this from you and run with it. I love you and how supportive you are at all times!
> 
> Title (and fic Inspo) from What A Feeling by One Direction

Six years. Calum spent six of the best years of his life with 5 Seconds of Summer, touring the world, releasing three incredible albums, experiencing all the wonderful things in the world.

So of course, it would only be natural for there to eventually be a point where he no longer wanted to do it. They all had their moments, their times where they were pushed to the breaking point and fake quit in the heat of the moment. Each band member had a meltdown at some point or another, fueled by stress, anxiety, or whatever other combination of stimuli that broke down their resolves.

But for Calum, he never intended on actually following through with his threats of quitting, until he did. He played every show, held on strong through the hiatus that took away most of their fans, and persevered through the release of Youngblood. He thought he was happy.

No, he _was_ happy. He loved every moment of the experiences, until he didn’t. Until the shining lights, cameras, and instability wore him too thin and the comfort of his band wasn’t enough anymore.

Calum knew it was coming for a while, he knew that he had been feeling so weighed down by the stress and frustrations of being on the road, of constantly being on the go when all he wanted was to settle down. He knew that he was getting to the point of no return, where he wouldn’t be able to back off the cliff he was on, knowing it was a long way down.

The ache in his joints was getting to the point where he couldn’t handle it anymore. Every time he got up on the stage with a bass in his hands, he couldn’t help but count the seconds until it was over. He resented himself for even thinking that way when not too long ago he craved every second of time he could get feeling the rush of a live audience pounding his eardrums.

The only thing keeping him holding on was the band themselves.

Calum could look over and see Luke standing ten feet away from him and everything felt possible, if only for a moment. Luke’s radiant smile filled the emptiness, a beacon to lead him through the dark. Calum relied on the small glances, private smiles, featherlight touches to keep him from floating away.

Calum knew he couldn’t put all his stock in Luke, so he made the effort of reaching out to the other members when he needed something.

Whenever Calum had a moment of not being able to handle the noise, he found his way to Michael for a quiet evening, laced with video games and friendly competition, tethering him to the moment long enough to let the fire raging inside him to dim to a small candlelight.

He was comfortable with Michael in a way that he could never be with anyone else, knowing that their love was endless, a friendship spanning most of their lives thus far. He could say anything and not feel judged, knowing that Michael just understood, or at least he pretended to understand.

When Calum needed valuable advice, he went to Ashton, asking for clarity on the moon and the stars, on fate bringing them to the point they’re at now. Most of these times, Ashton spoke enough bullshit to get Calum thinking about something other than his band related existential dread, instead focusing on the bigger picture of how he ended up in this exact moment. He savored those talks with Ashton, putting him in a mindset that would allow him to continue on, even just for a little while.

He also knew he could say anything to Ashton without judgement, sharing his deepest insecurities came easily when Ashton was such an open book. He loved laying in the backyard of one of their houses, staring up at the stars for inspiration, just existing.

Luke, however, was the outlier. Calum had to choose his time with Luke wisely, only seeking him out in specific situations in order to protect Luke’s heart.

Luke loved so deeply and wore every emotion on his sleeve, often absorbing the emotions of those around him, something Calum loved about the other man. Still, Calum had to tread lightly, not wanting to accidentally place his insecurities and clouded mindset onto Luke where he would display the feelings proudly, even without knowing.

Every time they crawled into bed with one another, held hands, or shared secret moments, Calum had to lock away his heart to keep them both safe. Keeping Luke at an emotional arm’s length wasn’t always easy, especially when the two were almost always physically wrapped up together. Luke would ramble on about all his thoughts, insecurities, dreams, while Calum would quietly listen along, never giving off even a fraction of what was swirling around in his mind.

Calum couldn’t put those negative words onto Luke, not when all he wanted to do was shower the other man in praise and appreciation, never to let on to the fact that he is silently struggling through every single day.

Every time Calum looks at Luke, the warmth seeps far enough into Calum’s bloodstream to keep his heart beating, reminding him that this band, that Luke, was the reason he was holding on so long. The adoration for the way the man looks at the world with rose colored glasses clouds the hatred Calum feels towards this world.

Calum wishes he could spend every moment wrapped up in Luke’s arms, relishing in the feeling of being loved, even if it wasn’t in the way his heart was yearning for, the kind of love that might be able to revive his love for their art.

Calum can’t blame anyone else, knowing his downfall was falling for their front man, an unobtainable goal. Even if the feelings were reciprocated, he couldn’t let Luke share in the blame of ending the band if it all went bad. Calum could handle guilt if he single handedly killed the best thing that ever happened to them, but giving Luke even an ounce of that guilt would be a disservice to how wonderful Luke is.

So Calum pushes the feeling of despair aside, just long enough to curl up to wherever Luke is and breathe in the positive energy, refilling his desire to hold on just a little longer.

And it works, until it doesn’t. At some point along the line, leeching off Luke’s pure devotion to everything and everyone around him no longer works for Calum. The emptiness finds a permanent space in his chest, taking up the place where the love for the band used to be. Luke’s portion of his heart was already overflowing, seeping into the hole from the band, but it was only a temporary fix.

Calum finds himself at the breaking point, knowing that if he doesn’t get a grip, he won’t be able to continue on. He doesn’t want to disappoint the band, or specifically Luke, by opting out of their dream, but he’s losing his grip on reality. A small part of him, selfishly, doesn’t care about what happens to the band, though destroying Luke’s form of happiness is the last thing he wants to do.

After a particularly rough night on stage filled with emptiness, Calum wanders into the room he’s sharing with Luke, anticipating going straight to his own bed and curling up under the covers, at least until the morning. Part of him was so sure Luke was out with Ashton, exploring or taking pictures for Instagram or whatever they do when they’re paired off like that. Calum bites down the jealousy at the thought.

Instead, Luke is lounging across his own bed, ankles crossed as he scrolls through his phone, almost as if he was waiting for Calum to arrive. Calum makes a small noise of acknowledgement, kicking off his shoes and preparing to get comfy.

“Cuddle?” Luke asks, placing his phone down on the bedside table, making grabby hands into the air around him. Calum sighs, wishing his resolve was higher, especially when it came to Luke, but begrudgingly agrees, crossing the space and landing on Luke’s bed. He lays on his back for a moment, one leg thrown carelessly over Luke’s lap, hoping that was enough contact to suffice.

Luke whines, tugging on Calum’s arm to signal him to get closer, to properly cuddle up beside him. Calum rolls over fully, pressing his face into Luke’s collarbone and aligning his body along Luke’s left, willing his feelings to go away just long enough for him to savor the moment. Luke’s fingertip dances across Calum’s cheekbone, gliding up and into his shower soft hair, twirling around a single strand.

They stay silent for a beat, Calum’s arm strewn across Luke’s stomach, rising and falling with his rhythmic breathing. For a little bit, Calum can pretend everything is okay, that he isn’t battling the inner turmoil of wanting to give up on his dream every single day, that he’s not hopelessly in love with the boy he’s lying on.

He toys with the idea of blurting out his feelings, one way or another, giving Luke a little part of him to carry around. Calum wants to get rid of the overbearing weight on his chest, partially from his own mental exhaustion of holding onto so many feelings with no outlet.

“What’s going on?” Luke asks quietly, not wanting to break the tension in the air, but effectively pulling Calum out of his internal debate.

“Nothing,” Calum offers too quickly, not even beginning to convince either of them that things were okay.

“Calum,” Luke huffs.

“I’m just. I—I’m conflicted,” Calum finally stutters out after a few seconds, speaking the words directly into Luke’s collarbone, hoping that they will be absorbed by Luke’s body, never to be heard again.

Luke sighs, the hand that’s not in Calum’s hair running lightly up and down Calum’s arm, catching on the sleeve of his t shirt. Calum shudders, gripping onto the knowledge that this might be the last time Luke ever holds him like this, especially once he tells Luke the truth.

Which truth he was going to share, that was a different story. The options were limited to telling him his feelings, showing his cards and letting Luke decide what to do with his heart, or to end it all, walking away from the one (or really, two) things that have ever brought him happiness.

“I feel like something is missing,” Calum admits, coming out as a small breath, almost quiet enough for Luke not to hear it.

“You need to let go of whatever is holding you back,” Luke hums, running a finger through one of Calum’s curls. Calum chokes on a breath, not expecting Luke to come out with something so profound without even knowing it.

“How should I do that?” Calum whispers, fingers clenching around the fabric of Luke’s shirt, holding on too close when he was going to have to let him go, tears beginning to spring up in his eyes.

“Cut the chains. Do what you need to do, you know? Nothing is more important than you, Calum,” Luke says, tilting his head to press his cheek against Calum’s head.

Calum inhales deeply, blinking against Luke’s arm in a weak attempt to force his tears back. He chastises himself, angry that he can’t just accept Luke’s advice at face value.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” Luke asks, pressing a small kiss against Calum’s curls. Calum nods into his skin, breathing raggedly as he debates his next move. In a split second of vulnerability, he thinks about announcing _hey Luke, I’m gonna quit the band tomorrow,_ or _hey Luke, I’ve been desperately in love with you for the past, I don’t know, 8 years of our lives._

Instead, Calum chooses the easy way out.

“You know I love you, yeah? Please never forget that,” Calum finally says, turning his head so his watery eyes meet Luke’s. Luke frowns, running his thumb under one of Calum’s eyes, catching the tiniest bit of liquid on his finger.

“Of course, I love you too,” Luke promises and Calum can feel his heartbeat steadily thumping below his ear. He can feel the warmth of Luke’s skin, the faint puffs of breath coming from his open lips. Calum wants to savor the moment, never to forget again, knowing that after tomorrow he may very well never see Luke again.

* * *

“I’m leaving,” Calum states calmly, ignoring the way that his breathing stops immediately after the words leave his mouth. They’re sitting in the lobby of their management’s office, Calum having just come from his own solo meeting under the guise of going for a walk to clear his head. Management wasn’t happy, but neither was Calum. Everyone loses in times like these.

Around the room, Luke looks up from staring at his phone, while Michael and Ashton pointedly ignoring the sentence, fucking around with some game on their phones. Calum stands in the doorway, looking out at the three men, trying to commit this moment to memory. 

“Where are you going?” Luke asks, titling his head, making him look even more like an overgrown puppy than he does normally, “we’re supposed to be meeting with management in like, five.”

“I’m leaving the band,” Calum clarifies, sitting down on the edge of the stiff armchair in the lobby.

That draws Michael and Ashton’s attention, both pairs of eyes darting up from whatever they had been doing. There is a moment of tense silence, Calum wishing he could snatch the words out of the air and shove them back down his throat.

“You’re what?” Michael finally replies, eyes narrowed at the man across the room. Calum shrinks in on himself, feeling scrutinized and mustering up any courage he has left to finish his statement.

“I can’t do it anymore. I-I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I just. I can’t.” Calum licks his lips, purposefully avoiding the intense stares of everyone around him. He can already see their faces in his mind. Michael is probably about to rage, about to throw something across the room. Ashton is probably processing the situation, waiting for Calum to speak more before he starts to make assumptions.

Luke, however, is an unknown. Calum’s brain can’t create a visual for the look that must be on Luke’s face. There are multiple possibilities here, Luke could be furious, could be upset, could be indifferent. Realistically, Calum knows the look on his face is going to be pain, because Luke is going to blame himself for this, no matter what else comes out of Calum’s mouth.

“I just can’t pretend to be something that I’m not anymore, it’s all on me,” Calum says, ripping into the skin on his lip. He looks up, first at Ashton, whose hands are folded in front of him rather than drumming against the table like Calum expected.

Michael is gripping the table in front of him so hard that his knuckles are white and Calum can see his chest rising and falling uncontrollably. Without thinking, Ashton places his hand on Michael’s arm, likely hearing the increased tempo of Michael’s breaths.

Finally, Calum looks over at Luke. He’s staring out in front of him, eyes fixated on a large plant next to the front door. Calum can almost see the wheels turning in Luke’s mind, the thousands of questions that he must have, all beginning with _why._

For half a second, Calum debates going to sit next to Luke, grabbing his hand and telling him he’s lying. Instead, Luke’s eyes flicker over to Calum’s, showcasing the worst hurt Calum has ever seen, sending shivers down his spine. His eyes are misty, blue faded to grey, unfocused as they flick around the room. Calum wants to reach over and close his eyes just so he can’t see the anguish there.

“Say you’re joking, Calum. This isn’t funny,” Michael hisses, glaring at Calum from across the room. Calum’s palms start sweating so he wipes them down his pants, gripping at his knees to ground himself. _Deep breaths, in for seven, out for eleven_ , he reminds himself.

“I’m not, Michael, I’m sorry,” Calum whispers, taking a deep breath and pressing his eyes closed, blocking out the sights in front of him. If he can’t see it, maybe his brain will be able to hold on to the idea that this is all one horrible, hellish nightmare.

“Say you’re fucking joking, Calum, I swear to god,” Michael yells, slamming a fist down on the table causing everyone to jump. He stands, chair clattering to the ground behind him. 

“Michael,” Ashton says, the stern tone to his voice silently ordering him to shut up.

“No, don’t fucking act like our dad right now, fuck,” Michael steams, standing up from the table. “Why the fuck are you leaving the band?” Michael demands, a flash of hurt showing up behind the rage.

“I can’t explain it! At least not right now. Please, please Michael, you have to know I wouldn’t be doing this unless I really needed to, I wish this wasn’t happening,” Calum pleads, looking up at him for a quick moment before fiddling with his fingers again.

“Do you not give a fuck about any of us? About the future? Are you really going to be that fucking selfish to just leave us? How dare you Calum, I really can’t believe this.”

“Michael,” Calum tries, gently pleading for the other man to calm down. He didn’t know what he expected, but for some reason, the scenarios in his mind never evolved to Michael yelling, though that would be the most likely response.

“Oh hell no, you don’t get to talk to me anymore, not if you’re actually being serious about leaving,” Michael points a finger at Calum. Calum shrinks back under Michael’s intense gaze, wishing now more than ever that the ground would swallow him hole, never to be seen again.

“When are you leaving?” Ashton asks calmly and Calum can see the wheels turning in his brain, trying to work out how this will happen for all of them.

“I already talked to management. I’m not going into the meeting with you all. This is your meeting to figure out what happens now,” Calum replies quietly, hanging his head in shame. Michael snorts, shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

“Okay,” Ashton says, an air of finality in his word as if he’s done talking about this now.

“Thanks, Calum. Thanks a fucking lot,” Michael spits.

Calum looks up, locking eyes with Michael for a moment, willing him to understand his point of view, to maybe not be mad at him for a moment. Michael scoffs, rolling his eyes and storming out of the room. Ashton nods once at Calum, the ghost of a smile gracing his lips for only a second, only long enough for Calum to question if it was actually there at all.

That leaves Calum and Luke alone together, sitting in a silence so tense Calum thinks he’s going to choke on it. The one person in the world whose opinion means something to Calum and the two of them can’t even look at each other, or, at least Calum can’t look at Luke. Calum wills his brain to let him look, to see how Luke is reacting, but the self-preservation part of him refuses to allow that pain, knowing he would change his mind in a moment if Luke looked even a fraction of as hurt as Calum feels.

Luke coughs once and the couch creaks below him as he rises, sighing heavily to himself. “I…” Luke starts, clearing his throat, piecing his words together carefully. Calum’s heartrate increases again, still refusing to look up at Luke. He holds his breath, waiting for something, anything. The time stretches on to infinity.

“I wish you the best, Cal,” is what Luke finally settles on, formal and cold, in a way that is entirely not Luke. When Calum finally gains the courage to look up, at the only person who could get him to stay, all Calum sees is Luke’s frame retreating into the office space, off to create a new band, one where Calum doesn’t exist.

* * *

A week after Calum announces his departure from the band to the band themselves, an announcement comes out from the 5sos band account on twitter. It spins some bullshit about Calum needing to step back for personal reasons, how the boys are supportive and understanding of his wants and needs. Fans had already began speculating after they had pulled out of a few radio shows set up to promote Youngblood, both the single and the album, though nothing had prepared them for a departure announcement.

Calum wants to respond, to share how none of them have talked to him since they left the room on that fateful day, but he knows how unfair that would be for all of them, to put that blame on all of them when he was the one who ruined things. Instead, he deletes his twitter app the second he sees the news. Moments later, he redownloads the app, only long enough to properly deactivate his account before deleting it once again.

His phone is overloaded with messages, friends and family calling to see if the news is true, if something bigger happened. He turns his phone on do not disturb immediately, blocking out the endless stream of questions, apologies, requests for statements.

For a moment he feels guilty, realizing he never told his parents or Mali that he was doing this. He should have reached out first, letting them know that he made this large life decision, one that would inevitably impact each one of them as they get calls and messages from concerned family asking if Calum is alright.

His first move is to call Mali, knowing that 9 am for him meant just before dinner for her, nicer than waking his parents up at 4 am to explain himself.

The second the line connects, Mali sighs down the line. “What’d you do, Cal?” Mali asks in place of a greeting, her calm voice soothing the tiny flicker of nerves he had.

“I couldn’t do it anymore,” Calum offers quietly, sinking back into the plush feathers of his bed. Mali stays silent, waiting for Calum to share more of his emotions before making any judgements. Calum loves her for always knowing what he needs, even from half a world away. 

“It was just getting too painful, I couldn’t breathe on stage anymore,” Calum continues, picking at the pills of fabric on his duvet.

“That’s not all though, is it?” is all she says is response, the slight static on the line reminding Calum how far she really is from him, a whole continent and ocean separating him from his best friend.

“Like, every time I walked out on stage, I felt wrong. My skin felt like it was crawling each time I stood in front of the microphone. I felt like I was living a lie. How was I supposed to be up on the stage every single night, singing words to songs with absolutely no passion behind them? Where did my passion go?” Calum asks, voice small.

Mali sighs on the other side of the line and he can picture her sitting on her couch in London, rubbing her temple. He can see her, tired, resembling his mother, ready to give him any advice she can think of.

Instead, Mali says, “did you talk to Luke about this?”

Calum falters for a moment, unsure where she got that information from. “No, why would I?” he asks.

“Cal, you’re not smooth. I know, I’ve known. For a while now, I think. Does he know? Or really, do any of the boys know what you’ve been going through?”

Calum sighs. “No. I mean, I tried to. To talk to Luke, at least. The day before I officially told management, I shared a room with Luke. I tried to tell him, but what was I supposed to say? I’m numb on stage, I have no feeling toward anything we’re doing as a band other than when I’m looking at you? You’re the only one that makes this all worth it? No thanks.”

Mali makes a small, pleased noise into the phone. “I knew you liked him, it’s been long enough.”

Calum scoffs, rolling his eyes despite knowing she can’t see him, “Enough, Mali. None of them have talked to me in a week, so that ship has sailed. There’s no chance for any of us.”

“Did you stop to think how they would feel about all of this? You probably scared them shitless, thinking their dream is over. Granted, I’m proud of you for doing whatever you needed to do to stay afloat, but they were probably terrified.”

Calum sighs, knowing very well that Mali was right. But of course he thought about the boys, they were basically all he ever thought about. He wanted to make sure that they were okay, that they were able to continue on without him and be just as successful, if not more, but the tiny voice in his head said _no, they hate you, you’re worthless now._

“I want to talk to them, but I don’t think they’d listen to me, especially not after what I did. And I don’t blame them, like at all. I just. I miss them, already,” Calum says, eyes burning with tears.

“What can I do to help you?” Mali asks.

Calum pauses for a moment, contemplating his answer to that question. Realistically, nothing can help him. He dug his own hole and now he has to lay in it. He wants the boys back. He wants to rewind time and take it all back, to tell Luke, or Ashton or Michael, what he was feeling. He wants to disappear, to get the fuck out of LA while he still has a chance.

Suddenly the prospect of people finding him, asking him questions, invading his privacy, hits his brain. His heartrate increases immediately, thinking of all the possibilities of having to answer for his actions, not knowing what to say. Going to the grocery store even sounds impossible, especially with the very real potential of running into any of the boys at any time.

“I need to leave, Mali. I can’t live here anymore, I—I can’t, I don’t think I can-can,” Calum stutters, gulping dramatically around the air in his throat.

Mali shushes him lightly, cooing in a way only his mother would. Calum wants to complain, but the tears have fully formed now, falling down his cheeks in waves, realizing the true extent to what he had done.

“We’ll figure it out Cal, okay? You’re not alone,” Mali reminds him.

Calum hiccups out a thank you, pressing the phone closer to his ear, the only confirmation that someone else is in his corner, at least right now.

* * *

In an act of self-defense, Calum moves out of his current home, opting to live somewhere not tainted by the midnight memories of his past life. He moves farther out of the city, opting to settle down in a smaller suburb up north, somewhere that he can feign normalcy and hope that no one notices him.

Mali joins him, pledging that she can work from home for a while, that no one will miss her in London. He tries to deny her, telling her that he doesn’t want her uprooting her entire life just because Calum can’t handle himself alone. Selfishly, Calum is excited to have Mali with him, especially since they haven’t lived together in over ten years.

The small-town life doesn’t fit him; it’s not where he wants to stay, but he can’t stomach the idea of living in the same town where his bandmates are, being close enough for someone to drop in on him at any time. (The realistic part of him knows that none of them would just stop by, not with him shutting them out of his life).

The house they move into doesn’t feel like home, mostly because it isn’t (the cheesy part of him yells that Luke is home, and he will never be home without Luke). Calum knows this isn’t permanent, just a temporary placeholder for when he finds something better, a more suitable home to last him a while. He has to think first, has to decide where he is going to settle down his roots. More than that, he needs to figure out what he’s going to do with his whole life, knowing that he can’t be a part of a band again any time soon.

It’s big enough for him and Mali, and Duke of course, with a backyard and a pool, a small office for Mali to work from while Calum walks around lifelessly. Mali ventures down the coast every few days, heading into LA for meetings and recording time, while Calum stays behind watching reality television in his underwear.

The ghost of being on stage haunts him, reminding him of what he left behind constantly. He left all his band memorabilia back in LA, collecting dust in the empty house. He couldn’t stomach the idea of seeing their faces as a collective group following him around the house. Mali makes sure she never mentions them, never accidentally plays a song or references something that could bring up thoughts of his past life.

Instead, the ghost of regret haunts all of his dreams. Calum follows it down the hall, chasing after the memories. Eventually he finds 18-year-old Calum on a stage, looking out at a crowd of faceless people. He’s alone on the stage, holding his favorite bass, floppy fringe falling into his face. On the side, he sees Luke staring at him, holding his own guitar by the neck. He looks disappointed, shame coating his face.

Calum tries to yell out to him, to ask why he’s alone on stage, but nothing comes out. His lungs contract, but the screams are held inside, Luke looking back at him with a blank stare. Calum begins to leave the stage, stumbling blindly towards Luke, but the stage is never ending, a treadmill beneath his feet. He sobs, broken, trying to get off the stage, away from all the faceless bodies screaming out to him.

He wakes up in a cold sweat, chest heaving with every breath. Calum is alone.

Whatever he does to suppress his dreams, it’s never enough. From the moment he moves into the new house, his subconscious brain mostly creates situations that include Luke in some way, almost as if he’s trying to give him a message. He’s haunted by the memory of Luke walking away from him and most nights he finds himself lying awake in bed, watching at the night changes to early A.M. 

None of them have spoken in nearly three weeks, the longest period of time since they first became friends. Every morning, Calum checks his phone, hoping that one of them will have slipped up, used the wrong group chat or sent him an individual text.

He desperately wants to reach out, to see how they’re doing, how Luke is doing specifically. A tiny shred of dignity keeps him from doing so, keeps him from being the pathetic one who can’t let go of the past, especially when he’s the one who caused the split in the first place.

Calum is proud of himself for lasting as long without downloading twitter, Instagram, anything back onto his phone to find out what’s going on in their lives. The want is almost irresistible, but Calum pushes it back and busies himself with Duke or calling his parents instead.

He’s alive, physically, but not mentally. Mali worries every day; he can see it in the way she stares at him when she thinks he’s not looking. He appreciates her, but then he also feels suffocated, but not in the pleasant way that Ashton used to hover when he was in a bad mood, or Michael when would press himself to Calum’s side in a particularly bad interview. He misses the smothering way that Luke would lay his entire body across Calum, despite being larger in almost every way, pressing down on his chest and holding down the jitters.

He wants to back by the band, living out of their pockets. With every passing day, Calum misses them more and more, trying to differentiate his feelings into something he can grow from and things that are holding him back.

* * *

The first time 5 Seconds of Summer does a televised appearance after Calum’s departure from the band, Calum isn’t sure how he’s going to feel watching them on the screen without him. He doesn’t know if the band replaced him, if they have a touring bassist now, or what exactly he’s about to see on the screen. He tried his hardest to avoid all the tabloids about himself and the band, refusing to hear about the speculation of it all, thankfully having Mali to screen all media that goes his way. 

The thing he least expects to see is Luke holding the bass, looking incredibly out of place on the stage. They reconfigured, putting Michael and Luke off to opposite sides with no one dead center, neither one looking ready for the performance. Calum thinks back, knowing the touring schedule had given them lots of time to prepare for this moment, lots of time to figure out how to be a three-person band when they’ve spent the past six years as a four piece.

Ashton counts them in and they begin Youngblood and it takes all of Calum’s willpower not to immediately turn off the television. He doesn’t think he can do this, he doesn’t think he can watch his band, or rather, his former band, continue on without him, playing the songs that they recorded for the album they were set to be promoting right now.

A small part of him suddenly feels immense regret, knowing that he should be up there with them all, nervous and sweaty yet so incredibly fulfilled by the knowledge that they were playing something amazing as a band.

Luke fumbles his way through the song, fingers barely hitting the right strings as he tries to sing while playing a very foreign instrument. They always fucked around with each other’s instruments, knowing the basics of how to play everything, if only for the songwriting process. But seeing Luke up on a stage, bathed in neon lights while holding a bass that definitely had been purchased specifically for Luke, was jarring.

Calum finds himself humming along, unwarrantedly critiquing the way Luke plays, knowing it’s unfair to judge when Calum put Luke in this position in the first place. Luke looks passionate on stage, masking over the threads of uncertainty sitting right below the surface. If Calum didn’t know Luke so well, he would have just assumed the stress was due to playing the bass on stage, something he never had done before.

Instead, Calum sees the little hints of other emotions coursing through every word Luke sings, the extra emphasis he puts on the chorus. He knows Luke is trying to make a point with the lyrics, yelling just a little when he sings “say you want me, out of your life,” like he’s singing directly to Calum. The sting hurts a little more than Calum anticipated, locking eyes with Luke through the screen, though there is no way Luke actually knows Calum is watching.

The sensation of watching 5 Seconds of Summer on stage, without him, isn’t one that Calum would ever be prepared for. He’s glad he had all but forced Mali out of the house for the night, allowing himself these few moments to indulge in the pain.

He thinks about Michael, about his best friend in the whole world, cutting him out like they had been casual acquaintances, no more than two bodies attending the same party. Calum’s heart aches with the thought of never speaking to Michael again, but his pride is too big to be the one to bridge the gap. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows the bridge is burned, that there’s no going back to fix him and Michael, no matter how hard he wants to try. Calum wishes that thought was enough to get him to turn off the TV, but instead he watches on, chest weighed down with a cocktail of regret and discomfort.

The song ends and Luke looks relieved, laced with a bit of pride. Michael beams as Luke, looking at the younger man like he was the sun as he happily bounds over to offer a hug. Ashton stays seated at the drums, smiling down at his bandmates, breathing heavily. Calum pushes down the small feeling of relief, seeing his boys complete a song without him and succeed.

Following the song is a short interview with whatever American TV host they’re visiting and Calum wants nothing more than to stop watching, not ready to hear them speak and inevitably have to explain more about why they’re suddenly a three piece, where Calum ventured off to.

The interview starts off in a typical way, Calum zoning out at they talk about the writing process, pleading with his mind to not think about the memories laced in each story the boys tell.

“Luke, how was playing the bass tonight?” the host asks, a small smirk on his face as he likely used this question to skirt around management’s request for them not to talk about their absent bassist.

Luke coughs, looking down at his hands for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with the invasion of privacy thinly veiled behind the question. Calum wants to punch the host in the face, to yell at him for asking such a question. He doesn’t want to hear the answer, honestly.

“Well, uh, it was my first time playing bass on stage before, so it was definitely a little weird, but uh, I think I’ll get used to it as time goes on,” Luke answers, picking at the red nail polish on his right thumbnail. Michael presses a hand to Luke’s thigh and Luke looks at him, a small appreciative smile gracing his lips. Calum wishes he was the one on the other side of that smile.

“This was a new experience for all of us, we’re enjoying the challenge of making our songs work for just the three of us. It’s been interesting and I think we’re going to come out of this stronger than ever,” Ashton says diplomatically, smiling in his charming-the-media way that only he can pull off.

“We are doing better than ever, this might be the way that 5sos was always meant to be,” Michael adds, a small smirk on his own lips, knowing that line would be a shot to the heart for Calum. He knows he deserves it, to hear that 5sos will be doing better without him, but it doesn’t hurt any less to have his childhood best friend utter those words on national television, where fans will be ready to pick apart the words.

The camera pans over to Luke, who looks like he’s in another world, seconds away from breaking down on camera. Calum wants to reach out and touch him, to pull him to his chest and promise everything will be okay, even when he knows they won’t be. He grapples with the idea of the emptiness in his stomach, suddenly unsure if that feeling was actually a numb spot or his heart protecting him from getting any more hurt than necessary.

Calum zones out after that, not wanting to hear more about the promo tour they’re on, the different cities and countries they will be visiting and all the fun experiences they will have on the way. Watching his best friends up on the media circuit without him tugs on a part of his heart he had pushed aside, hidden under other boxes of feelings that he doesn’t want to delve into any time soon. Those boxes are stacked neatly on the top of a closet somewhere in the back of his heart, stored away for another time when he has the emotional capacity to think about it more.

The interview ends and the boys exit, so Calum turns off the tv. He sits in tense silence for a while, reflecting on his loss, wondering if he did the right thing. The empty hole in his stomach has been replaced with a stone, sitting heavy in his gut, weighing him down from the inside out.

He’s stuck on the couch, thinking about everything he’s ever done in life, contemplating what brought him to the moment he was in presently. He loved the band, loved 5 Seconds of Summer with everything he had in him. He loved Michael, Ashton, and especially Luke boundlessly and even now, even a month detached from them, he still misses them more than ever.

He thinks about the fans, about those who would camp out for barricade, singing the lyrics back up at him as he smiled down at them. He feels strong in those memories, invincible almost. He can’t feel the pain, the emptiness that had him leaving the band in the memories.

Nobody compares to Luke, a realization that Calum had come to years ago, but never let himself fully accept. He’s still the one that puts stars in Calum’s eyes, lights up every dark night. Luke is a breath of fresh air in the thickest smoke, holding on through the wire.

Now, without Luke by his side, he knows the truth of loneliness, and what a feeling it is. If he gets the opportunity, Calum knows he’s never going to let Luke go again.

* * *

That day comes a little sooner than Calum intended, not knowing what is over the horizon for him. It takes a rainy Friday in solitude to knock Calum off course. Mali had gone to stay with friends in LA for the night, promising Calum that she would bring him back some of his favorite Chinese food from the place near home, near his old home. The drops of rain dance along the rooftop, tapping out a rhythm much like Ashton would when they were sitting quietly in someone’s living room.

Calum shakes Ashton out of his head, forcing the thoughts back to their corners. He was doing so good, good enough that he had downloaded Instagram once again, seeing that Michael had unfollowed him at some point. A stupid social media follow shouldn’t hurt that bad, but the missing follow taken from him only reminds him more of the life he left behind.

He itches to reach out, to text anybody just to see if he would get a response. Half of him wonders if any of them would have changed their phone numbers, a frequent occurrence that comes along with their fame. The small part of Calum that still isn’t ready for that confrontation wants to call Luke and have the phone disconnect, telling him that the person on the other side changed their number.

Something about the familiarity of the rain, along with the empty home and the longing to reach out to those that he left behind sparks him to pick up a bass for the first time in over two months, since the day before leaving the band. It sits uncomfortably in his hands, resting against his thighs in a way that causes his skin to crawl.

He lazily plucks the strings, remembering the simple patterns he would play on repeat at every sold-out show. His fingers run through song after song, carefully staying away from any songs he wrote with Luke, unwilling to feel that pain. He thinks about Luke on the bass, standing up on stage every night learning a new instrument as he goes. He pushes that thought away, not wanting to think about how he’s living his life without Calum and what that means for the longing still sitting in his heart.

Eventually, after running through almost every song he knows by heart, something in Calum tells him to post a video on Instagram. He ponders that thought for a while before setting up his phone against the windowsill, allowing for that sound of the rain to guide his playing. He runs through the notes of The Only Reason, reminding himself of being on stage with the boys, of the remix they had created for their upcoming tour that he will never be able to play live.

He keeps his face out of the frame, knowing that it would portray too much emotion. He wants to send a message, maybe let the others (Luke) know that he’s thinking of them, missing them, wishing he was back with them every moment of every day.

With a deep breath, he presses post, watching the video upload to his story before throwing his phone across the room, no longer wanting to see what happens from his reckless decision. Months ago, he wouldn’t have thought twice about posting something so insignificant, but he could feel the wolves coming out of the cracks, ready to devour him whole.

He makes a point of avoiding the device, leaving it face down on the carpet.

Calum loses himself in some pointless cooking show, knowing very well that he will never, ever be able to cook something at the same caliber that these chefs do. It’s been just over two hours since Calum posted the Instagram story and honestly, he’s forgotten about it until someone is pounding on his front door.

Standing on the other side, damp from the downpour, is Luke.

“Luke,” Calum breathes, a wave of calm hitting him, immediately followed by the overwhelming feeling of dread. How the hell did he find him here? He’d been so careful to keep his hiding place a secret, going as far as to turn off sharing his location with the other boys (a decision that hurt his chest far more than he expected).

Luke, pacing across his front porch looking absolutely furious, snaps his head up to Calum’s gaze as Calum sayshis name. His hands clenched into fists, little crescent moons inevitably gracing the flesh of his palms.

“Fuck you, Calum Hood,” Luke spits, pushing past him into the house. Calum stands frozen in place for a moment, collecting his emotions. After three months of not hearing Luke’s voice in person, Luke’s first words back to him slice knives down his back.

“Luke,” Calum says again, pitifully. In the moment, Calum knows no other words than Luke’s name, feeling foreign as it is flicking across his tongue, filling the spaces between his teeth with a sour taste.

“Listen, I wasn’t going to come here. I really don’t know if I want to face you anymore, but I’m pissed,” Luke says while pacing around the living room.

Calum stands in the doorway, wide eyed and confused, a million questions flying through his head but none able to materialize into something of substance. Part of him still believes that Luke is an illusion, a figment of his imagination created to trick his mind into correcting his still unresolved trauma.

“No, okay, I’m gonna speak and you’re going to listen, got it? I need to do this before I lose my motivation,” Luke says, fire behind his eyes like Calum has never seen before. All he can do is nod, taking a seat on the couch across from where Luke is standing.

“Fuck you, first of all. Second, how fucking dare you. You leave the band, then you up and leave LA too? You delete all your social media accounts? God Calum, I honestly can’t even begin to understand you,” Luke yells, throwing his hands around recklessly. “How could you think that we could just go on without you? What brought you to the point of giving up on us? How could you leave us? How could you leave _ME_?”

“I’m sorry,” Calum whispers, his voice barely carrying over to Luke.

Luke’s eyes narrow, focused in on Calum with an unreadable look on his face. Calum shudders, not enjoying the icy glare, though he knows that he deserves it.

“Why did you move?” Luke demands.

“I didn’t want any of you to be able to find me.”

Luke huffs, rolling his eyes. “Well that’s why you deleted all your social medias too, right?”

Calum nods, swallowing the urge to go wrap his arms around Luke. Any other time, they would have been all over each other by now, occupying every corner of their personal space to meld together as one. Calum misses those days.

“How did you find me?” Calum asks, unsure if he wants to actually hear the answer.

“Mali. I saw your stupid fucking Instagram story and texted her, she had to know where you were. The Only Reason, Cal, really? But yeah, she said you were out here, that you hadn’t left the house in months. And that pissed me off, because you’re not allowed to be sad, not when you’re the one who fucked everything up,” Luke said, taking a seat in the armchair across from Calum.

Luke glares down at his hands, keeping himself closed off from Calum. Calum wants nothing more than to reach out, to run his hands down Luke’s arms, to pull him into a hug. Everything about this feels like an ugly breakup of a long-term relationship, unable to comfortably be in the same room with one another. Their history keeps them apart but also draws them together. He feels as if he has no control over his emotions as he tries to carefully formulate his next sentence, giving Luke enough but still keeping his heart safe.

“You told me to cut the chains! You were the one who told me that I needed to let go, that I should do whatever was going to make me happy. If anyone was to blame here, it would be you!” Calum cries, pulling at the hair around the crown of his head.

“I didn’t know that was going to be leaving the fucking band, Calum!” Luke yells back, standing to pace around the room again, too much pent-up energy to sit still.

“What else was I supposed to do Luke! I couldn’t hold out any longer, I was literally being torn apart every fucking time I walked out onto that stage. Every time I stood there holding the bass, I felt like I was going to cry. Every single time I heard you start singing, I had to dissociate entirely just to get through the sets. The emptiness was too much to handle and the pros outweighed the cons. I couldn’t do it anymore,” Calum says, all but yelling at Luke.

“Why couldn’t you talk to us?” Luke asks, threading his fingers through his curls, yanking just slightly at the roots, “why couldn’t you tell us you were struggling?”

“I tried, Luke, I did. I just couldn’t let any of you bare my burden, it was hard enough trying to carry it myself.”  
  
“You didn’t have to carry it alone! You were never alone, we would have helped you any way we could. Fuck, Cal, I would have helped you no matter what it was,” Luke says.

“I couldn’t let you carry my weight, Luke. You already did more than you needed to, just by existing. I don’t think I could ever put it into words, what you did for me. You were the singular thing that kept me going,” Calum admits, voice growing dangerously shaky with every passing word.

“Then why couldn’t you just talk to me?” Luke whispers, a small hint of tears building up in his eyes. “Calum you were my best friend, and you just left like it didn’t even matter at all. Like I didn’t even matter at all. How am I supposed to not blame myself for that?”

Calum pretends not to hear the past tense in that sentence.

Calum closes the gap between him and Luke without even thinking, pulling the younger man to his chest. Despite the height difference, Luke curls in on himself, head falling into the space of Calum’s collarbones, only for a moment before he realizes what he’s doing. Luke pushes himself away from Calum, sending waves of hurt through Calum’s bloodstream.

“I need you to listen to me,” Calum chokes out, grasping onto tiny threads to keep himself together, “you did absolutely nothing wrong. I never, ever, want to hear you blame yourself for this again. I did it, it was my own choice and I… I regret it every day,” Calum admits again, clutching onto the fabric of his own hoodie like a lifeline.

“If you regret it, why didn’t you come back to us? Why did you move away and delete your social media accounts like you were trying to get rid of us?” Luke’s unsaid “ _trying to get rid of me_ ” hangs in the air, threatening Calum with the need to spit out every word he’s holding back on his tongue.

“I couldn’t, Luke. I couldn’t put you through that pain again, all of you. Michael hates me, Ashton might be professional, but I know he’s pissed, and you. I couldn’t face you again after leaving. I was dreading this moment we’re in right now for the past few months, knowing that someday I would have to face you again and face all my regrets.”

“Michael doesn’t hate you,” Luke offers softly. “I mean sure, after you left, he was pissed. Like, wouldn’t speak at any meetings, wouldn’t look at any of us, throwing shit around the hotel room pissed. I can’t blame him for that either. But now he’s just hurt. You lost your best friend, but so did he.”

“But tell me, would it have been any better if I tried to talk to him? No, we know that he would still be the same old stubborn Michael and wouldn’t hear a word I say. There wasn’t a point at that point. There probably still isn’t a point.”

“I just don’t understand why you left me, Cal. Did you not care about how I would feel at all? Were you really okay with being that selfish?”

“I wanted to call you every single day, Luke. The first performance you all did, where you played the bass for the first time? I almost had to physically restrain myself in order to make sure that I wouldn’t text you, because I couldn’t ruin the look of pride you had on your face. God, I was so proud of you, up there playing the bass like you were meant to be there.”

“I wanted to cry the entire time I was on stage,” Luke shares, tilting his head back to the ceiling. “I want to cry right now,” Luke laughs pitifully.

Calum stares across the room at Luke, taking in the changes from the past few months. To anyone else, Luke would look exactly the same, but to Calum, he sees the fine lines that have settled next to his eyes, the purple bags under his eyes. He looks disheveled, as if he had been walking in the wind. He’s aged in the past few months, the stress of Calum’s departure hanging heavy on his conscience.

Calum knows he’s in too deep, truly, madly, deeply, wading through water to get back to Luke. Now that he has him back in his life, he’s never going to be able to leave him again. Calum wants to reach out, to caress Luke’s face and kiss him now more than ever. He restrains himself, knowing this is a once in a lifetime chance to get back what he lost, beginning with the most important person.

“I miss you so fucking much,” Calum finally admits, eyes staying misty as he stares at Luke across the expanse of the living room.

“What the hell could be so awful that you couldn’t talk to us about it? We’re supposed to be your brothers, why couldn’t we help you?” Luke asks, sitting down on the couch to settle his restless bones.

Now or never, Calum thinks. He’s got to know, one way or another.

“Jesus Christ Luke, I loved you! I love you, whatever the tense should be. Like, more than friends, more than acceptable when we’re band mates, or at least, were band mates. I don’t know, I just. I don’t know,” Calum deflates, head hitting the back of the chair ungracefully.

There’s a split second between when Calum speaks the words to when he realizes what he has done, admitting. He wants Luke back in his life, desperately, but he also can’t keep living like this, in denial of all his emotions. Somewhere within him, he hopes that by telling Luke how he feels, he’ll be able to move forward in being a human again.

Luke stares blankly at him and Calum is brought back to telling the band he was leaving, with Luke giving no indication of what he was thinking. He wants to work his way into Luke’s brain, take a peek around and see what he can find. He needs to know what thoughts he has, or doesn’t, about the whole situation.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Luke asks softly, eyes peering up from under his curls, framing his face in blonde.

“I couldn’t tell you, I couldn’t ruin everything. I couldn’t let you think that you caused all of this.”

“So instead you decided to ruin everything by leaving the fucking band?” Luke asks, raising one eyebrow.

“Yeah, maybe that wasn’t my best idea,” Calum huffs out a laugh, “but honestly, it wasn’t you that caused me to leave. I genuinely couldn’t handle the bullshit anymore, being on stage felt foreign and I hated every moment. I needed to stop looking to you to change my mind, because it wasn’t your responsibility.”

“So why tell me now?” Luke asks, still no indication of what he was feeling, years of media training coming into play with hiding his emotions.

Calum sighs. “You’re here. It’s been three months and you’re here, in the house that I bought to hide from you. Maybe I’m a masochist but I couldn’t let you walk out of my life without telling you what I was feeling. I’m done, I’m laying it all out on the line now, Luke. I love everything about you, every fucking fault and fragment of you.”

Luke looks down at his hands and Calum’s fight of flight starts to kick in, wanting to get the hell out of here now that he’s handed half a heart to the other man.

The chair creaks as Luke stands up and Calum holds his breath, ready to see Luke walk out of his life for the last time.

Instead, he moves across the room, settling down next to Calum. He places his hand on Calum’s thigh, palm up, inviting him to grab it. Calum’s eyes widen, looking from Luke’s hand to his eyes quizzically, not entirely certain that he is believing what he’s seeing. A small smile quirks up on Luke’s lips and Calum can see his eyes are still damp, but now shining with something a little less desperate.

Calum settles his fingers into the spaces between Luke’s, familiarity laced with a little bit of new energy, excitement in the potential that Luke may feel the same way, that this could be the start of getting his spark back.

“I’m sorry, Luke,” Calum says into the space between them.

“None of it matters right now, Cal. It’s just you & I, and we’ll make it work, okay? We’ll be alright.” Luke responds, squeezing Calum’s hand a little tighter. “I’m not over this, by any means, but I want to figure out how to make this work. You mean far too much to me to let go of and the past few months have been absolute hell without you. You are my rock, you kept me going. I realized it even more when you were gone.”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“No, you don’t. But dammit Cal, I love you, I’ve meant that every time I’ve ever said it to you. You’re stupid and I hate that we’re in this position right now, but I’m not fucking losing you again. I can’t lose you again, please make me that promise that you won’t leave me again,” Luke pleads.

“I promise,” Calum repeats, nodding once, content to be back at home, back where he belongs. Everything else will work itself out in time, he’s sure of it as he holds Luke close.


End file.
